


Belly of the Deepest Love

by Faeriache



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Deep Throating, Eventual Threesome, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Porn With Plot, Trans Zagreus (Hades Video Game), and im here for it ngl, being dead means u don't have to breathe, double stuffed zagreus, face fucking, gratuitous use of the word lad, it doesn't really matter in this chapter but i'm just getting it out there, like oof achilles takes that dick good tho, no beta we die like men, patroclus meddling until they all hook up is the general gist of most of these fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28813779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faeriache/pseuds/Faeriache
Summary: "I bet you've thought about it before."  Is all the says."What?"  Achilles barely manages the question as Patroclus swipes a thumb over the head of his thick, weeping cock."The princes hands, here."  Patroclus answers so casually Achilles could nearly be sure he'd misheard, and the wide eyed look of appalled shock his gives his beloved makes him laugh.  The sound soft as silks, as the river Lethe beyond them, it flows.  "Oh come now, Achilles, don't I know you better than anyone?  Wouldn't his hands here feel so good?"Or, the one where Achilles is prone to denying himself; Patroclus helps him see he doesn't have to.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 263





	1. The Story they Composed

**Author's Note:**

> I have this whole thing plotted out in my head, and I'm not good at keeping a decent update schedule, but I will say that feedback helps keep me on my toes lol. Title and probably chapter titles too are going to be taken from the song 'belly of the deepest love' by Tow'rs

It is not their first reunion. The first had been spent in many tears, in apologies given and given back. ( "There is no need. What good are apologies to the dead, beloved? You are here. I had begun to believe it was not possible. Do not apologize, just come here." ) But after, their appetites were remembered. Achilles comes in his downtime, which he is given considerably more of than he anticipated. He supposes that his position in the house was, predominantly, a showy title and little else. It wasn't as though Hades himself needed much in way of protection. He always comes hungry, propping his spear up as soon as Patroclus is within sight, and always greets him with a kiss that might make Aphrodite herself blush; that the depth of such desire has never been seen before. And always, always more so than the last. As if every moment apart rends his heart bare with need.

It does. 

Always, it does. ( It doesn't help that he cannot be so thankful with their Prince. He wants to. Zagreus always stops to ask after Patroclus and Achilles, so overcome with gratitude and love that he has long shoved down, wants so badly to grab his face and kiss him. Convey that thankful mercy, tell him 'Patroclus is more than well, I miss him when I am here. I miss you when I am there.' He does not do this. )

Patroclus had seemed to know something plagued him, when he came to the glen today. Patroclus always seems to know when Achilles is stewing too deeply in his own thoughts. He has always been wont to do so, of course. His beloved seems to have made some profound decision, in the span of Achilles quiet. It starts in kisses, little things peppered along the lines of Achilles throat. Achilles sighs, shoulders going lax as his hair is combed away to carve a path for adoration. His cloak freed from shoulders, coming to a new home in the soft Elysian grass. Patroclus, who rests behind him and urges Achilles to relax. They are now in paradise, what trouble should weigh his shoulders? 

"Relax, beloved Achilles, lie back." He does as instructed, his gut heavy with guilt, as Patroclus hands sweep over him, petting hair and arms, his chest. ( Breastplate and bracers have been forgotten hours ago, they lie in the grass with his cloak, now. ) "The tension you carry...I could swear you have seen the field of war again." Patroclus says, open mouthed kisses at his throat plying sweet sighs and sounds from his great warrior. "You think too much." He says. 

"Is that better or worse, than not thinking at all?" 

"Hm. I couldn't say for sure. You were prone to bouts of both, when alive." Patroclus smiles against his shoulders when says it, and Achilles laughs. The tension rolls out of him with the sound, and he reclines his head against his lovers shoulder as skilled hands find their way to warmer places. 

Patroclus is ceaseless -- as impossible to deter from his questing desire as he had ever been in life. Skilled and familiar hands work him over diligently -- and when Patroclus chuckles under his breath, Achilles peers at him beneath pale lashes, breath coming in heavy puffs and fingers clutching at his lovers shoulders. The noise he makes is inquisitive and curious, certain that whatever thoughts Pat is currently entertaining, they aren't of the same train of thought. ( Such is the habit of his lover; able to follow such multitudes of thought in moments of intimacy, where Achilles loses all capacity for rational thought. )

"I bet you've thought about it before." Is all the says. 

"What?" Achilles barely manages the question as Patroclus swipes a thumb over the head of his thick, weeping cock. 

"The princes hands, here." Patroclus answers so casually Achilles could nearly be sure he'd misheard, and the wide eyed look of appalled shock his gives his beloved makes him laugh. The sound soft as silks, as the river Lethe beyond them, it flows. "Oh come now, Achilles, don't I know you better than anyone? Wouldn't his hands here feel so good?" 

Achilles, flustered and feeling a familiar roll of sickly guilt in his gut, cannot force himself to answer -- his breath trembles, hips rocking into his lovers fist as he closes his eyes, squeezes them shut tightly as it it would force away the guilt of his thoughts, the fierce punch of desire that threatens to unravel him, make his knees weak. In life, Achilles may have been a fierce and fearless warrior -- but there is something about being nearly invulnerable that breeds a particular fear. Or it did for Achilles, anyway. Like skinning your knees for the first time as a child, compared to years later -- Achilles doesn't know how to handle so much as the anticipation of rejection, and thus shies away from all desires of his heart, to avoid skinning his knees. 

( He has always been thus, Patroclus remembers. How Achilles, panicked and afraid of repercussion, had pushed him away and steadfastly ignored the event all together, the first time Patroclus had kissed him when they were barely more than boys. He remembers their summers on mount Pelion, and how long it took for Achilles to touch him with any confidence. ) 

"Come now, Achilles--" He speaks, hand going still as Achilles lets out a whine, orgasm ripped away at the last moment, wrested from his grasp by lovers cruel whim. He knows better than to try and thrust into the hand around his cock -- lest he have to wait longer. "Do you think I wouldn't want to share? I'm not so possessive of your attention, love. Nothing diminishes how I adore you. I desire him too, Achilles, and I am less prone to denying myself as you are." 

Achilles huffs laughter. 

"No, you are prone only to denying me." He jests with a short roll of his hips. It earns him a slow, lazy smile as Patroclus begins to stroke him languidly, now, too slow to bring Achilles any relief. It is the sweetest torture, in it's familiarity. ( He could write poems and sonnets, ballads and hymns, to how he missed this. Not the simple lusting of it, but the intimacy and the adoration, the worship that comes with how Patroclus touches him; kisses sweet as honeyed wine and a touch that never fails to set him to fire. )   
They go on -- Achilles is barely more than a hot puddle of need, by the time Patroclus at last relents and allows Achilles release. His beloved arches with a sob, fucking up into the hand around his cock until Patroclus has milked him for every drop, wringing his orgasm for all it's worth. Achilles collapses back against him -- breathless without breath, as though his soul itself remembers the motions of this. They reside in comfort beside the river of oblivion, peaceful but for the thoughts now bouncing around in Achilles skull -- and like a seed lovingly planted, Patroclus waits for it to grow. 

He knows his Achilles. He will brood over it, until at last, like a cup too full, it spills. 

"Did you mean what you said, Pat?" 

"Hm?" |

"About desiring him." 

In lieu of a direct answer, Patroclus asks instead; "You're aware of his own affections, I'm sure. You've always been stubborn, but not blind, and not ignorant." Achilles nods. 

"I was sick with grief, when I realized I wanted him. He was younger then, though older than me by far -- and I hated myself because I felt I betrayed your memory, just in wanting." He sounds sick with grief now, as though he is admitting to some great sin. As though he has betrayed everything their love stands for. Patroclus rolls his eyes; oh the drama. ( He remembers Deidamia. How Achilles had wept, fearing that Patroclus would never forgive him. It hadn't been his choice, to lay with her. How could he be angry. He does suppose this is different, in so many ways this was different. He remembers Briseis. How Patroclus had considered marrying her, and might have if it wouldn't have seemed like a slap in the face to his beloved. As though burying him before he was in the ground. They have always wanted more than just each other. They have shared their bed before -- it's silly for Achilles to berate himself this much, after being so steadfastly devoted to him in spite of what must be great desire. Achilles never does anything in half measures. )

"Wanting alone is no crime, and I doubt I would have been upset even if you had given in -- BUt Achilles?" He waits for Achilles, still a little sluggish with the aftermath of overwhelmed desire, to look at him. "Your loyalty warms me -- and my deep love for you is great. But I am here now, and it would be no betrayal." Achilles shudders and sinks against him again.

Achilles stews in his lesser anxieties, as though afraid whatever he could give Zagreus would not be enough. ( He remembers the softly crestfallen smile -- "My heart belongs to someone else." and "Somehow, I knew that." ) 

"I know you turned him away Achilles, but he is too kind to hold that against you. And I would wager, he loves you too much." 

"You didn't answer me before, love -- do you desire him?" Patroclus, so calm and controlled -- Achilles knows, in the way one can only know their own soul, what depth of appetite hides in him. 

"Since first I saw him." Something in his tone shivers down Achilles spine like the breath of a lover.

"They ... how do you wish to proceed?" 

"Slowly." Patroclus answers, thoughtful and returning now to languid sloth. Achilles laughs, of course he does. Such is Patroclus nature, sure and steady, no hurry. Persistent, a sure hunter, waiting to tire his prey. Achilles perfect opposite. They agree to win the prince's affections -- Slowly, and only together. 

( "I have dreamed of you every moment I spent apart, I don't think I could bear it if he only wanted me." And the way he says it is so mournful that Patroclus can only smile, twining their fingers together as he hides his nose in the soft curls of Achilles hair.

"I don't think you need worry over such matters, beloved, as the prince has showered me with the same attention and gifts he has you. But I am not in a rush, and nothing would please me more than the properly ensnare him in our gratitude. I have a few ideas on the matter." ) 

When Achilles returns to the house of Hades, he stops Zagreus on his way out. It's bold of him, he thinks, to wait in the Princes bedchamber like this. ( He sees the way Megaera raises an eyebrow at him from across the hall, in the lounge, but doesn't stop him. He thinks that's probably a good sign, right? ) When Zagreus finally comes skidding to a blazing stop as he enters the room, he blinks at Achilles as though briefly debating whether his eyes are playing tricks. 

"Achilles, sir? What are you doing here?" 

"Apologies for being so bold, lad, I didn't want to risk missing you before you headed out again. I...I wanted to give you a proper thank you, for your efforts on my behalf." 

The Prince changes so suddenly, confusion melting away into a smile that reminds Achilles what the sun itself was like, how Helios might have graced them on a warm day betwixt the spring and summer. ( Mount Pelion in the changing of the seasons, laying beneath trees. Zagreus rivals the sun itself, in his warmth. ) His smile is dazzling. 

"It's no trouble at all, sir! No need to thank me, in fact, it brings me no amount of pleasure to see you happy and at peace. You, out of anyone I know, deserve it." 

And oh, Achilles is soft with longing. How sweet his student had become. How kind. 

He must get it from his Mother. 

"All the same, if it's alright with you, Patroclus and I -- we would like to request your company together. We've been saving the bottle of Ambrosia you last left us with, and Patroclus has been testing a recipe Eurydice gave him. We'd like to give you a proper thank you -- consider it a mortal thing, lad. I would be remiss not to show you how much we ... how much we appreciate you." 

There's a moment, just the one, where Achilles sees hesitation born of heartache. He thinks of what Patroclus said. Slow, but not ignorant. Achilles knows he put that hurt there, and he knows he can fix it, with time and due diligence. But it must be done together, with his beloved. Before Zagreus can attempt to offer half - hearted excuses and apologies, Achilles continues: 

"You can take all the time you need to get there, lad, I know you're busy with the new job -- but Patroclus as well, we'd very much like to see you." 

It seems the insistence is what wins out. Zagreus smiles, not so bright, not so sincere -- and nods. 

"Alright then, Achilles, Sir -- when next I pass through Elysium, I will be certain to seek you out."


	2. How you wish to be with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bath time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: schedule this so it comes out later, keep a schedule  
> also me: ........ what if i just ............ post it now.
> 
> I swear Zagreus will actually be in the next chapter. I don't write a lot of long stuff so I don't plan on dragging this out much longer. It's porn with plot, not a slow burn. Maybe one day I will have the patience to write a slow burn.

Eurydice's home in Asphodel is a unique thing; Asphodel is not a realm of comfort. How it came to be that she found a home for herself is unknown to Achilles, though he has heard tell that it had something to do with Persephone herself. Fond as she was of Orpheus and his music, and Eurydice's strong spirit. But in Elysium, every spirit is given a home. Great warriors and heroes of myth and legend alike, but it seems that the great many of them don't find much use, as their owners frequent the coliseum. According to Patroclus, he favored the comfort of the River Lethe, rather than a home bereft of their mutual comfort. (He remembers their home near Troy. Built on the beaches as it was, those raids which became residency. This home reminds him of it. The River of Oblivion winds it's way through the hills where the great home is built into.) 

Achilles ached, the first time Patroclus showed it to him. Their home in life was never meant to be permanent; but Troy never opened their walls, and the years dragged on. It was comfortable, with time. It was home. Achilles had remembered it every day they were apart. Waking in their bed, his beloved securely in his arms -- the sun falling over him, dark lashes dusting his cheeks with kisses. Every morning, he woke amazed at how beautiful his lover could be, peaceful and asleep. The idea that he could possibly have that again ...  
The house is modest, the way theirs had been in life, and despite the fact that they had arrived to the afterlife separated by an entire realm it seems to have been designed entirely with them in mind. ( "Would it be paradise otherwise?" Patroclus had smiled, the sight of it demure and gentle. It might be the first time Achilles had ever believed Patroclus thought this place could be paradise. His heart has never felt so full. ) 

Time passes in the strange and liminal way that it does in the Underworld. Since their conversation by the Lethe, and Achilles conversation with Zagreus, it seems that the Godling has been avoiding him. He's seen him pass by in a rushing blur of heat and streaks on the tile in the great hall, but he never comes to the guardpost, and the hasn't come to the glen to see them yet. Achilles told him to take his time, and it seems he plans to. In the meantime, it gives Achilles a chance to grow to comfort with their idea. There is a nervous seed in his chest that Patroclus might be doing this out of some sense of obligation, out of anything less than genuine desire. 

"Since first you saw him, you said." Achilles finally breaches the topic again, unsure exactly how long it has been since last they spoke on it. He reclines in the bath, head hanging over the edge of the stone tub and resting on one of his lovers strong thighs. Patroclus combs his fingers through lovely curls, pulling oil through them as he goes. His beloved gives a sleepy, slow acknowledgement of the statement. 

"You mean to ask of what I said before, then? About the Prince?" 

"Yes. You said you desired him since first you saw him. How?" Achilles eyes fall closed, throat bobbing with a deep swallow. The warmth of the spring which warms the bath is a sleepy heat -- the River Lethe, he thinks it must be, the domain of their dreaming God, Hypnos. Washes away memory of hurts, of aching. Leaves little room for else other than rest and desire. He twitches between his legs, when he thinks of Patroclus in his glen beside the river, the way his eyes might rove over the Prince in his spirited arrival. 

"You ask how I desired him...?" The fingers slow their diligent work, and Achilles can practically hear the way Patroclus raises a brow at him. 

"Yes. I want to know what you thought, how it came to be -- what impression he made on you." 

"Only if you intend to return the favor, beloved. Though I imagine I can parse it together myself, nothing would please me more than to hear how you fantasized about taking our Prince." 

Our Prince, he says, and Achilles finds it warms his gut. Stirs him with profound passion. He turns, so that he's resting both arms over his lovers lap, facing him now. His cock brushes against the edge of the tiled bath, hidden from Patroclus sight as he is currently positioned. Patroclus, though, is all on sight for Achilles to see. Half-hard already, eyes lidded with the sudden memory of fantasy. 

"He was wearing your bracer. I noticed it immediately, you know. It could not have escaped my attention that he was connected to you -- it was the first inkling I had been given that you were here at all. I had not seen you, and I had looked everywhere for -- well, I could not tell you how long I looked. I wandered, the whole of Elysium, sure I would find you somewhere. When I didn't, I sat beside the Lethe and reasoned that when you died, you would find me there." Patroclus does not need to explain that such a thing never came to pass. Achilles turns his head, presses a kiss to the inside of his lovers thigh. Patroclus shivers, cock growing slowly stiff in attention. "He was ... alive. So much more so than the occasional shade that passed through the glen, and the way he moved. With such speed and dexterity. The flash of his feet were graceful, and they reminded me of you. I knew you must have trained him." 

Oh, Achilles abruptly understands; He remembers the first time Patroclus saw him fight. Well, if you could call it that. They were but boys then, but Patroclus had been so enamored with it he wanted to fight Achilles himself, if only to see him do it again. No one had loved his feet more than Patroclus. 

"He moved with the same abrupt grace you did, if not a bit more brash than you. Something I did not think was possible." He teases. Achilles bites into his thigh in retaliation, earning him a shocked moan in answer. Achilles grins, proud of his work, as he turns his head closer to Patroclus waiting erection, now standing quite at attention.  
"Look at the sight of you, love, just at thinking of him?" 

"I meant what I said. Since first I saw him. I thought of the way you must desire him, because I was sure you did. I thought perhaps you might have held him by then, that he might possibly be a bridge between him. I might have been able to fuck his throat and have him return it to you -- but eventually it became clear you were denying yourself. He was sad, I could tell, because he loved you." Achilles trembles with the idea, the fantasy that he had entertained himself, and apparently as had his darling.  
And unexpected twist. Gods above, why hadn't they done it? 

"I thought about us, holding him together. Taking him together. I like to imagine he could handle it -- he is a God. I doubt we would break him. I was not ashamed to touch myself to the thought of him. It was everything about him -- how he reminded me of you and how he didn't. Bright with the flame of life as he was, always eager to try and cheer me, even when he barely knew me." Patroclus sounds wistful with it. "I could not imagine knowing him as long as you had, and not being in love with him. So I knew you must have been." 

His fingers resume their play in Achilles hair, his cock heavy between his thighs, where Achilles nuzzles at. Presses kisses to the side of the shaft as though in worship, in great praise of him. 

"Look at you love, look at how you want him..." 

Patroclus smiles down at him, with a knowing light in his eyes. 

"And look at how you want me, darling, here beloved. Open." Patroclus guides him by his hair, and Achilles is all too happy to oblige. There is an ease to it, as he takes his lover down his throat with motions familiar. Patroclus is sizable, and he fills Achilles throat with a low sound. Achilles hips rolls uselessly, unable to find much friction under the water as it is, and he whines as he takes his lover. Patroclus holds him down, so deep he's pressed into the hair at the base of him. ( The feeling of being used makes his guts twist with a sharp need. Oh, he loves when Patroclus gets handsy with what he wants. ) 

He would get mouthy right now if he could, talk about how he must have thought of doing this to Zagreus. Or perhaps he wanted to show Zagreus just how well his mentor could take his cock. He could think of a dozen different ways he'd like to show Zagreus just how skilled his lover could be with his cock. And oh, a dozen ways he'd like to please Zagreus with it. 

Achilles whines around his lover, one hand slipping down into the bath to stroke himself as Patroclus begins to move, hips rolling slowly. He sets a slow, languid pace, fucking into Achilles throat. It would have been more difficult in life. His throat still clenches at the intrusion, but when he gags it's more like the memory of choking than any genuine concern that he might. It doesn't take much. A few more slow, deep thrusts into his lovers throat and Patroclus is coming, holding him down as his hips jerk. 

Achilles comes in time with him, hips twisting in the water as he strokes himself, eyes squeezing shut. ( Tears? He thinks there might be tears in his eyes, wetting his cheeks. Unreasonable, but just as his body seems to remember what it is to need breath, he blinks tears away as Patroclus releases him. He heaves for breath that he doesn't need. )  
"So good for me, love. Let's finish your bath. I want your hair to shine when you leave today." 

He leaves Elysium with no doubt in mind that Patroclus has found something in Zagreus to love in his own way. He never should have doubted in the first place, he thinks. Patroclus has never been shy with his opinions. If he had been offended with Achilles affection, he would have told Achilles immediately -- so aware of their mutual pining as he was. 

Softly, slowly, Achilles presses reverent kisses to his thighs, to everywhere he can reach, suddenly so overcome with affection. 

"You have always been too good to me." 

"I have always been as good to you as you deserved; exactly that and nothing more." 

His answer comes so swift and sure it shakes Achilles to his core. Oh, how he missed him when they were apart. The sure and certain half of his soul.

"Achilles?"

"Hm?"

"When next you see Zagreus, do urge him to come sooner." Achilles smiles, head resting in his lovers lap, content. 

"I will."


	3. Belly of the Deepest Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I finished a whole ass fic in one day. This ones the goods guys. Here you go, gratuitous smut.

Zagreus cannot run from them forever. The fact of it all is that between the house and Elysium, he's bound to run into them eventually. Achilles let's him take all the time he needs, and he knows that when it finally comes together, it likely won't be as smooth and seamless as he and Patroclus fantasize it will be. It won't simply be a matter of inviting him to bed; they'll have to wade through the heartbreak that Achilles caused, first. 

Patroclus and Zagreus are in the glen together, when Achilles arrives come the end of his shift; he can tell immediately from the way Zagreus shifts on his feet that he wishes he hadn't idled so long. (There is a guilty set to his features and a smile on his lovers face that causes him to wonder just what trouble Pat was stirring up, his mischievous beloved.) Achilles greets Zagreus with a tender thing of a smile and a wave, jogging up the steps to them. 

"Zagreus! At last you are here. What luck of the fates then, that I arrived before you left." Patroclus stretches in the grass, reminding Achilles of a cat, and pushes himself up to stand. 

"I have convinced Zagreus to come to the house with me. Thank me profoundly, Achilles, it was quite the daunting task." Patroclus teases, and Achilles feels his blood turn hot with alarming speed when Patroclus leans closer to Zagreus and rests a hand on the small of his back, lower than is strictly appropriate or necessary. It's unfair that just seeing them together threatens to take him apart. Zagreus, for his part, appears to be torn between leaning closer, and leaning away, his eyes cutting to Achilles with vague horror.   
This is how Patroclus likes to pull them in. The couple of people they shared their bed with -- Automedon, and Briseis. He likes to make them worried. Make them afraid of what Achilles will do to them -- he thinks it's perhaps not fair to Zagreus. The poor boy already has enough to worry about. He doesn't need to fear Achilles jealousy. Especially not when it sets his blood to fire just watching thinking of it. It's endearing, though. No one can resist Patroclus charms, Achilles least of all. He is a siren in his own right, in that regard. In that moment, it becomes clear to him there is no doubt to be had -- Zagreus must desire Patroclus just as badly as he desires Achilles. That nervous look he's giving isn't the look of a chaste mind. 

Achilles moves closer. 

"Well then we ought to get moving. I imagine you have busy plans, but I am honored that you're taking the time out to have a drink with us, Zagreus." Achilles rests a hand on his students shoulder, smiling all the while in a way meant to be inviting. Patroclus hand still rests on his back, and the two of them are intentionally quite a bit closer than they really need to be. ( Zagreus may be a little stubborn, but like Achilles, he surely isn't blind. A shiver runs through him that Achilles makes note of. )

The return to the house is short, but longer than it usually takes without Zagreus. It turns out that, apparently, the chambers only rearrange themselves so viciously in an attempt to keep him from escaping. To the residents of Elysium, their shifting paradise is kinder. How else would they find home? 

Patroclus stands back, while they fight. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. He has never been fond of the act of war -- and has no interest in picking fights with shades that want to see Zagreus fall. But seeing the speed and grace, the tandem and ease with which student and teacher fight twists something in his gut. Zagreus is able to keep up with Achilles in a manner, as a mortal, was always beyond Patroclus. What stabs his gut is not jealousy, but the keen realization that there is so much in Zagreus that completes them. He thinks he would like to see them fight together, in the coliseum. Oh, wouldn't that be a sight? Imagine if Zagreus had been with them in Troy. 

What a silly thought. 

It's pushed away soon enough, as the chamber gives way to home, and they lead Zagreus inside. Zagreus, who in curiosity takes to poking around the place. Neither of them seem to mind, and they give him the space to do so as they shed armor and spears at the door, getting comfortable. 

It's ridiculous, to think that Achilles is nervous now -- half the battle is already won. Zagreus is here, and he desires them both. The horror of it is that he believes that both of them are far beyond his reach. It twists like a dagger in him. Patroclus leans in to kiss him, a chaste action of welcoming him home, and he sees the aborted way that Zagreus watches them, and tears his eyes away when he meets Achilles gaze. ( It isn't cruel, poor boy, they don't mean it to be cruel. Achilles reassures himself that before the end of the night -- day? -- they will have hopefully set this misunderstanding to right. )

Achilles ducks into another room to fetch the ambrosia, and leaves the two of them together in the other room. By the time he returns, Patroclus has settled both himself and Zagreus down onto the cushions in the den. The look of content on his face as he listens to Zagreus ramble about his most recent trek through the underworld squeezes his heart in a vice grip. Achilles passes a glass of ambrosia to Pat, and then to Zagreus, and settles down beside pat in order to listen to Zagreus tell his tale. 

Except -- after a few minutes, wherein Achilles tries not to worry about the logistics of this, Patroclus leans over and presses a line of slow kisses along his jaw. His heart leaps.   
Zagreus stops midsentence, seemingly stunned, and the silence is dry-mouthed and heavy. 

Siren indeed, just as Achilles had so aptly described. In one single motion, Patroclus has commanded the attention of the room, turned the entire thing heady with implication. There's simply something about the way he lids his eyes, lashes drooped low, leaning over a cushion to kiss his lover so slowly -- it's sultry. It's unfair. 

"Pat--" 

"Hm?" 

"Pat, we have a guest." 

"I don't imagine he'd be much of a mind to stop me ... would you, stranger?" 

At being directly addressed, Zagreus seems to jolt back to life. Flaming bits of laurel spin into the air at a pace more frequent than normal, an expression of his distressed embarrassment. Achilles thinks there is something intentional in the use of the nickname; he has only ever called Zagreus their prince, when alone. Slowly, Achilles realizes that Patroclus has had time and care well enough to have thought this all through, and as per usual, is well ahead of Achilles. If he allows it, Patroclus will take utter control of the situation. 

He intends to allow it. Pat is usually right. 

"Stop -- you? No, I mean -- I could leave if you like, but I don't think--" 

"You needn't leave, stranger, we're just having a drink and going to have a good time, aren't we?" A hand creeps up Achilles thigh, and the sight of Zagreus gaze following it threatens to make him dizzy, how fast his blood rushes south. The mere knowledge that he is watching. "We'd like you to stay, and have a good time with us. After all, you have been so generous with us, stranger. All else, all worries, can wait for a while, don't you think? What would paradise be if you could not set aside fear, for a few hours." 

That seems to speak to Zagreus, something in it that perhaps is too far removed from Achilles for him to understand. Something they've spoken about before. It sets Zagreus to straight backed and aflame. He's attentive now, watching Patroclus with eyes that say he's learning. Understanding how it works. 

"Come over here, Zagreus." Patroclus bids, and Zagreus listens. 

How heady it makes Achilles, watching his Prince crawl closer with the light of curiosity, the same fire he does everything else in life. 

"You can touch him, Zagreus. Come, I'll show you what he likes." Patroclus offers, extending a hand, and it is a wordless instruction for Achilles to stay silent and still. (He understands that, intrinsically. In the way much of their dialogue is without words. He stays still.) Zagreus's bold eyes flicker up to watch his mentors expression, though, worried. 

"Is ... that alright, sir?" 

"Oh, more than alright, lad." 

He assents his consent, and can feel the great pleasure it brings them both. Zagreus takes Patroclus hand, and allows himself to be guided. The familiar hand over his thigh is replaced, warmer and smaller, and sliding over his skin. Oh, it's unfair -- he's so hard already, it aches. His hips twitch. 

"Look at that, Zagreus. What desperation you set him to with mere touch ... I told you so." 

What? 

Achilles looks at him, and the smug victory found on his lovers face shouldn't surprise him so much. He loves a mischievous man, a scheming and clever man. 

"You did, Sir-- Patroclus, you did. But I...I didn't think it was true." Zagreus says, and Achilles understands he thought it might have been some cruelty on Patroclus part. It would explain the desperation to stay away. He didn't know Pat as well as Achilles did. He was many things, but he was not cruel to those for whom he carried affection. 

Abruptly, Achilles realizes this could be ... a very long night. Patroclus intends to drag this out, he knows. 

"I intend for this to be just as I promised you, Zagreus --" Patroclus says, leaning in behind Zagreus to cage him, face pressed into his shoulder, and hips rolling against him to show just how excited he is in turn. That it is not just Achilles who desires him so. "Achilles is going to show you just how much he has desired you, he told me in great detail, and now he will tell you. Won't you, darling?" 

Achilles nods, and given the chance, his eyes are soft with affection. 

"I shouldn't have turned you away, lad, the action was not thoughtless, but it was selfish. I feared sullying my beloveds memory -- I should have known better. I should have explained it better, if nothing else. Please -- I have desired more than this for many years. More years than I know how to keep track of, in the underworld." It's heartfelt, and as much of a confession as he can give at present, head swimming with want. "Please, with me and Pat -- we want to share you, Zagreus, if you would...desire it as well."   
Zagreus' nod is enthusiastic, and his smile bright, and that is all Achilles needs. 

"You must have thought about his cock before, stranger. I know how it is to desire Achilles while beyond your reach -- nothing in the world had ever been more beautiful to me, or excited me more, when we were youths. Touch him, Zagreus, as you've always wanted to." Patroclus sits back, now, watching with eager eyes as Zagreus takes his time exploring. Hands traveling over thighs, over Achilles abdomen, still entirely clothed -- but so hard it barely matters. It's easy to see his heavy desire -- it stands proud beneath his skirt. 

Achilles takes a deep, imagined breath, as Zagreus comes closer -- fingers combing through his hair. It's a slow exploration, and it finally ends with Zagreus climbing into his lap slowly, and kissing him. There is a tenderness, a passion, that feels like reunion.

Zagreus rocks against him, and he can feel the wet between his thighs through his tights. The ragged sound of his moan could set Achilles on fire. The prince digs his heels into the floor and uses the leverage to roll his hips properly, the feeling shoots through him like sparks. 

Achilles hears Patroclus whistle, hand around his cock already, stroking slowly. 

At last. 

Achilles is overwhelmed by the sudden realization of all that he has -- two great loves. It is more than some men find in their whole long lifetimes. They had died young, and have been blessed in death. Zagreus kisses him again, and Achilles at last moves, like breaking a spell. He holds onto Zagreus hips, and rolls up. The keening sound Zagreus makes could be music, it's so sweet. 

"What do you want, Zagreus?" Achilles at last asks, parting breathless. 

"I want so much I don't even know where to start." Zagreus answers, flushed and on fire. 

"We will give you all. All you could want." 

"Start with your mouth, Achilles." Patroclus says, pressing up against Zagreus again. "lean back here, Zagreus, into my lap. Let him pleasure you." Zagreus, overwhelmed, only nods and situates himself leaning back against patroclus, who makes himself at home on several cushions. He leans into the Prince's ear to whisper, while Achilles pulls the Prince's tights away. "I know he's thought of this. His mouth is heaven, and he loves nothing more than to take his partners apart with it -- I can tell you, I know he dreamed of evenings spent between your thighs, love." 

Zagreus shivers, and spreads his legs gladly as Achilles situates himself between them. With a reverence that a God such as Zagreus deserves, Achilles reveals him. His little cock is so hard, his cunt gushing with slick so sweet it is an ambrosia all of it's own. He could bottle it, for all it intoxicates him. Achilles takes him in his mouth, tongue moving in slow patterns, oh the taste of him! Zagreus hips jerk with surprise, head lolling back onto Patroclus shoulders, for all that he longs to watch. He's so hard, so wet. Patroclus supports his weight, arms around his middle. "Isn't he good with his tongue, Zagreus?" The prince nods. 

Achilles sets about his task with enchanted fever, lapping at him with hot, eager mouth. He eats the prince out like it's the most ardent task ever assigned to him.   
Patroclus is inclined to agree. 

The poor prince doesn't take long. Oh, Patroclus can only imagine -- this, which he has imagined likely since he was young, as he's nearly certain Achilles must have been the poor boys first crush. Now here, now reality. He came embarrassingly fast the first night of their reunion, too. He won't begrudge that on him. 

And besides, Patroclus doesn't intend it to be the last time he comes tonight. 

"I'm--" Zagreus starts, and Patroclus shushes him with a gentle kiss in his hair, as Achilles moves with a new vigor. Tempted to press fingers into him, feel him clench and wet around his fingers, but such a permission hasn't been given to him. Zagreus jerks when he comes, and Achilles holds his hips. The Prince slumps back against Patroclus, panting.   
"I hope you're not worn out already prince -- I was of the opinion you had stamina to spare." There's a wicked light in Patroclus eye that Achilles recognizes. His lover can be so insatiable. He intends to push the bounds of the God's stamina for sure. 

"No, no, I'm-- I just need a minute." He says -- and the two of them are only to happy to oblige. Patroclus tilts the princes head back, and despite the awkward angle, manages a deep thing of a kiss that Achilles swears could melt him. The sight of the two great desires of his heart, indulging in each other -- oh, he knows by the time this night is over his heart is going to be so full of this image. He wants to see Patroclus fuck the prince so badly he can't stand it. 

"I can hear your wheels turning, Achilles, what are you thinking?" 

"I want to see you inside him. I need to see it --" 

"Oh? Didn't I tell you he'd say that, Zagreus?" Achilles flushes, to be so understood and easily made. 

"You did, sir--" Zagreus is breathless. 

"Well, we'll have to give him a good show, won't we stranger?" There is the affectionate nickname again. Achilles sees it for what it is. Zagreus nods, pushing up so that he can sit in Pat's lap properly. Patroclus leans back, chest pressed against the prince's back and holds one thigh over a powerful arm. He presses two fingers in without resistance, Zagreus head falling back onto his shoulder again as he lets out a long moan at the feeling. "So wet for us, stranger. I think you could take me with no effort at all. And look at this, you've just come and already your little cock is standing up again. You were right about that stamina of yours..." 

Zagreus seems to take the compliments as reason to be smug, he rolls his hips down on to Patroclus fingers with a grin, hips stuttering when his fingers seem to find a perfect spot inside him. A rush of slick coats Patroclus hand. Achilles is so achingly hard, watching them. His cock hangs past the hem of his skirt, flushed and weeping. Patroclus smiles at the sight of it. 

"Oh Achilles, love..." He sighs, gesturing for Achilles to come closer. Zagreus pulls him in for a kiss, his tongue sweeping over Achilles mouth. Patroclus pumps his fingers in deep, three of them now, before he pulls them away and decides that's enough. Achilles sits back to watch him slide in, watch the easy way that Zagreus takes his lovers cock. The way he shakes and trembles, eyes rolling back and mouth covered, as Patroclus takes that first sharp, deep thrust. The noise Zagreus makes is otherworldly in it's ability to inspire lust. 

The prince is trembling in Patroclus grasp, and Achilles can't help a breathless laugh -- he presses a hand over the Prince's stomach. "Oh, I know. He's thicker than you expected, isn't he? Patroclus is built like a bull darling, I know. He hits those perfect places, doesn't he?" 

Oh, there's few things in the world Achilles loves more than to sing praises of his lovers marvelous cock. 

Zagreus nods, unable to form coherent speech at the moment, overwhelmed. Patroclus thrusts again, shallow, sharp movements of his hips-- but he's sheathed so completely that Achilles can only imagine how deeply he must be reaching. 

"Sir-- Achilles--" Zagreus reaches for him, and Achilles is only too happy to oblige. 

"Do you think he could take more, darling?" Patroclus wonders, and Zagreus seems bewildered as to the meaning -- but Achilles understands. This, they've spoken of before. Achilles, pressing kisses to his beloved Prince's chest, slips a hand down to where his lovers are connected, and tests the give. He worms another finger inside, where Zagreus gasps at the intrusion but doesn't move away -- he rocks his hips down, and Achilles watches as they shake. As he wets with another gush of slick. 

"I think he could. What do you say, Zagreus, would you like us both to be inside you? To fill you up?" 

Oh, the speed with which Zagreus assents is magnificent. 

Achilles manages two more fingers, over time, testing whether he can take it without hurting -- but the pain doesn't seem to come. Unbelievable. Luck of the gods, it seems, to be able to take so much. 

Patroclus braces the prince against his chest as Achilles lines himself, so hard he's concerned he might come just getting settled in, he's so sensitive -- and then he presses in. The Prince keens in their arms. 

"Full--" The prince whines, unable to move much with the way the two of them are holding him still -- but they move. Achilles slides in as his lover slides out, so that Zagreus is never empty. The perfect harmony they move in, the intrinsic understanding, comes with an overwhelming love that Zagreus is not only party to, but given freely. They shower his throat in kisses, whisper sweet praise. They never stop touching him, worshipping him as he deserves to be worshipped. 

"Oh, Achilles darling, you're getting close." Patroclus notes with a breathless voice, he sees it in the way Achilles hips stutter. The way he holds onto Pat with one hand and leans over Zagreus shoulder suddenly in order to kiss him. It doesn't take much then. 

Achilles stutters, his hips snapping forward, and Patroclus goes still inside while he comes, able to feel the heat of both his lovers -- Zagreus jolts, hips rolling now that their grip isn't so strong, and nearly screams when orgasm rips through him again -- Patroclus takes only a few more shallow thrusts before he grunts, and spends deep inside the Prince as well, fucking him through their orgasm with strong arms around the Prince, before he finally stills. 

The three of them, exhausted and not much for conversation at the moment, manage to arrange themselves with some comfort on the cushion, while Achilles fetches a rag. They clean their prince with loving care, and Patroclus holds him, letting him rest on his chest-- eventually, Achilles joins them, cuddles in from the other side, spooning up against Zagreus from behind. 

"All is well then, I should imagine?" Zagreus nod is sleepy, exhausted. Patroclus can't very well fault him for it. He's trembling still, from the force of coming untouched. Achilles presses kisses to the bare lines of his shoulders.


End file.
